A Very Hayffie Christmas
by DharmaMotorPool
Summary: Effie surprises the three victors of District 12 with a Christmas visit. Suddenly, they all begin to feel more at home than they have in years. Post-Mockingjay.
1. Chapter 1

It was the first Christmas after the success of the rebellion. Haymitch, Katniss, and Peeta had settled into a comfortable enough routine back in District 12; after getting over the initial shock of everything, the young couple made sure to check in on Haymitch at least a couple of times a week. For the most part, they kept to themselves. Of course, Katniss and Peeta were a bit more social than Haymitch, but that was nothing new.

None of them expected a certain ex-escort to show up, but two days before Christmas, there she was, knocking on Katniss and Peeta's door. "Effie!" Peeta exclaimed in surprise when he opened the door to her. He almost didn't recognize the woman before him – her hair was in an elaborate updo, but it was, decidedly, _her_ hair, and she had much less makeup on than usual. Hearing him, Katniss had hurried to the hallway and stood behind him.

"Hello, my darlings!" She greeted them each with an embrace. "I hope it's not an inconvenience, me popping in like this, but—well, you did say that your spare room was available any time. Does that offer still stand?" As she spoke, they couldn't help noticing that her accent wasn't nearly as strong as it used to be.

"Of course, absolutely," Peeta confirmed, ushering her into the house. They set her bags to the side and moved to the living room. "How are things in the Capitol?"

"Oh, _busy_, of course, but it does feel nice to be doing something useful." Since the end of the rebellion, Effie had been working as a sort of assistant to President Paylor, keeping her schedule in order and so on.

"And how is everyone? Plutarch, Beetee, Annie, Johanna?" Peeta asked. They hadn't kept in very close touch with anyone; at least, not yet. The wounds still felt too raw.

"Well, Plutarch and Beetee are up to business as usual. I don't understand most of it, but they seem content. Annie will have the baby any day now. She's worried, but Johanna has been taking care of her. I'm sure she's going to be a wonderful mother."

"She will be," Katniss agreed.

"And what about the two of you? What have you been up to?"

"You know, nothing out of the ordinary. Rebuilding, a bit. Katniss hunts, I bake. Haymitch drinks," Peeta told her.

"Haymitch—is he—well, I mean to say, have you been—"

"Keeping an eye on him? Yes, as much as we can," Katniss said with a small smile. "You know how unruly he can be, though. Most days, he just shoos us away and tells us to get on with our lives."

"Stubborn," Effie said, shaking her head and furrowing her brow. "Is he home now, then?"

"I would imagine; he hardly ever leaves the house," Peeta said.

"Would you mind if I excused myself for a bit?" Effie asked. "I want to discuss Christmas Day with him – I thought the four of us could all have dinner together."

"That would be nice," Katniss agreed appreciatively. "Oh, before you go, I meant to ask—have you spoken to my mother?"

"She's doing as well as can be expected, and she sends her love," Effie told her.

"Thank you," Katniss replied softly. "All right, go and check on Haymitch, make sure he's still alive. We'll fix a snack. Tell him he can come over too, if he can manage to walk all the way here," she joked.

"I'll see what I can do, but I'm not a miracle worker," Effie joked back. She left the house, then traveled the short distance to Haymitch's and knocked on the door. She heard him groan and fumble around inside, attempting to collect himself before he got to the door.

"What do you want now? I told you not to bother me unless—" he started to say as the door swung open; he was expecting Katniss or Peeta or both, but certainly not the woman he saw in front of him. "Effie?" he asked, squinting to make sure it was actually her – she looked so different that it was hard to tell.

"You sure know how to make people feel welcome," she teased. "May I come in?"

"What are you—why are you in 12?"

"I'm here to see _you_, of course. The three of you, I mean. I'm staying with Katniss and Peeta for a few days. It is _Christmas_ time, after all," she reminded him.

"It's—oh, yeah, that," he said, remembering that it was definitely past mid-December, as evidenced by the chill in the air and the blanket of snow on the ground.

"You don't seem to be in much of a Christmas mood," she observed, stepping inside without waiting for him to invite her in. "I see you haven't changed your décor."

"Why should I? It's just me, anyway," he huffed, "At least, it is when I don't have intruders."

"I came to invite you to Christmas dinner. It would just be the four of us, and I thought—"

"I'm not really a Christmas kind of guy," he said, plopping himself back down on the couch.

"Well, it's just one dinner. I brought presents for everyone, and I thought it would be nice, you know, to have our little team back together again for the holiday."

"You can sit," he told her, nodding to the other side of the couch.

"So, are you going to show up?" she asked, gingerly taking a seat next to him.

"You brought me a present?" he asked curiously, sitting up straight and moving closer to her.

"Yes, I brought one for each of you," she confirmed.

"What is it?"

"I can't tell you _that_," she said incredulously. "It would ruin all the fun of it."

"I'll still pretend to be surprised," he said. "You look—different."

"I should think so," she said, smoothing her skirt. "You look—the same."

"I should think so," he teased, a grin spreading across his face. "It's good on you. That look, I mean."

"You're inebriated."

"Not any more than usual," he said nonchalantly. "Yeah, I'll be there."

"What?"

"Christmas dinner. I'll be there. Gotta find out about that present, after all."

"Katniss said you can join us over there now, too. They're making something to eat. We can catch up, and—"

"Not much to catch up on, princess. Not on my end, at least. You're blonde," he observed.

"You knew that."

"I know, but it's different now. Much better than pink or orange," he told her.

"Thank you," she said softly. "Haymitch, I—I never did get to thank you for what you did in Thirteen. I—"

"Don't," he interrupted. "You don't have to thank me for anything. Did you really think Plutarch and I would let Coin kill you?"

"No, but—"

"We just did what we had to do. You were innocent; we made sure you didn't face any unnecessary punishment, that's all."

"That's all? You make it sound so—"

"So what?"

"Formal," she said, looking down at her hands. Being imprisoned had been horrible, but being rescued and then told that she was to be executed as a Capitol sympathizer was far worse.

"We're a team," he said suddenly, one of his hands moving to rest on top of hers. "That's why I—well, that and the fact that it was my fault for not bringing you with me in the first place."

"You know I don't blame you for—"

"I know," he said, cutting her off and giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "I would have if I could have, but Coin never would have allowed it."

"I know," she said softly. "It doesn't matter anymore. It's all over now, and we're here, and we're safe, and we're together. That's all that matters."

"It's been a long time since I thought anything really mattered to me," he confessed. "Until those kids—and you."

Effie looked taken aback. "Me?"

"Well, you're no picnic," he teased, "But yeah; you matter to me."

"You haven't replied to my letters. I couldn't call—"

"I don't like the phone," he said, gazing at the device that had been ripped out of the wall.

"I know."

"I read them. Your letters; I read them all, but I'm no good at writing them. It would sound something like, 'Dear Effie, I drank a full bottle of whiskey today, and Katniss whined at me to clean up my house. I'll never do it. Nagging doesn't work unless it's you nagging me. Haymitch'," he recited off the top of his head.

Effie let out a laugh, "Well, you could have tried, at least. I started to think you didn't care to talk to me anymore."

"I do," he assured her.

They stared at one another for a few long, silent moments; it might have felt awkward if they weren't Haymitch and Effie, if they weren't so used to one another, but as such, it wasn't awkward at all—until Haymitch leaned forward.

Effie pulled back with a sharp intake of breath just before his lips reached hers. "Katniss and Peeta will be expecting us," she said softly. "We should—shouldn't keep them waiting."

"Oh, right. Manners," he said, somewhat gruffly.

Effie stood, trying to make her head stop spinning. She had wanted him to kiss her for such a long time – _years_, in fact; so why had she pulled back? Even she had no idea. Perhaps it had something to do with his current state of mind; he wasn't falling-down drunk, but he wasn't anywhere near sober, either. If he was to kiss her, she wanted it to be 100% because he truly wanted to, with no outside influences.

They walked to Katniss and Peeta's in silence. Haymitch did not bring up their almost-kiss again that night, nor did he seem bitter about it. After a few hours of conversation and food, he bade them goodnight and went back to his own empty house. Effie couldn't know it, but even though he hadn't mentioned it, her lips were now all he could think about. He decided that night that if there was ever going to be a kiss between them, he'd have to actually do something to earn it, and he decided to begin by finding her a decent Christmas present.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, he set to work. It took quite a while to find everything he needed, what with the state his house was in, but he managed to get it all together and form it into what he wanted it to be within a few hours. It was Christmas Eve, and though they hadn't made any plans the night before, Haymitch decided to show up unannounced.

Effie, Katniss, and Peeta had spent the day doing a bit of shopping, then returned to the Village and sat around the fire talking. None of them expected Haymitch, but when he knocked on the door, he was welcomed inside. "Actually—Effie, I was thinking we could go for a walk," he suggested.

"Oh, I—yes, all right, let me get my coat," she said, standing. "We'll leave you two to yourselves for a while," she told the young couple.

"Don't worry, I'll return her in one piece," Haymitch joked.

"You'd better," Peeta said, sounding harsher than he intended. Katniss touched his cheek, and his expression softened. "We'll see you soon," he said, his usual kindness returning to his tone.

Haymitch ushered Effie outside, and they began to walk toward the edge of the Victor's Village. "What made you want to take a walk with me?" she finally asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. "I thought you'd be angry with me."

"Why would I be angry? Because you didn't let me kiss you?"

There it was. The ice was broken. "Well—yes," she replied tentatively.

"I'm not angry," he told her.

"Oh. All right, then," she said. They walked on in silence for another minute. "Why did you try to—"

"Do you really want that answer?"

"I don't know. Do I?"

"I tried to kiss you because I wanted to. It's all right that you didn't."

"That's not it, I just—"

"You weren't ready."

"I—suppose not," she admitted. "How much have you had to drink today?"

"Is that what that was about? You pulled back because you thought—what, that I'd have to be drunk to want to kiss you? I thought your self-esteem was stronger than _that_, princess," he said with a soft chuckle.

"Don't do that," she chastised, furrowing her brow. "Don't make light of it. How was I to know why you tried to—you've certainly never shown any interest in that before."

"That was before."

"Before what?"

"You've changed, in case that escaped your notice. You've been changing little by little, ever since the day we realized we could have a victor in Katniss. You're not the woman you were when I met you. You're smarter, and stronger. You're—beautiful, really," he told her. They had stopped walking at some point, neither one truly aware of it. He faced her now, and took her hands in his. She was wearing gloves, but he'd forgotten his, and her touch warmed him. "And I haven't had a drink today, by the way," he confessed. "Been too busy."

"You know, if there was ever an appropriate time for you to try again, it would be right now," she told him.

"Why's that?"

Effie's gaze shifted upward. They were standing beneath the arch that marked the entrance to the Village, and hanging from the center of it was a sprig of mistletoe. Haymitch followed her gaze, and had to laugh at what he saw there. "Well, I think I'm obligated now."

"It's an unwritten law," she agreed.

"Wouldn't want to break the law," he said, looking back at her.

"Since when?" she teased. Her hair was down, and it fell about her shoulders in soft waves that framed her face. Her nose and cheeks were rosy with the cold. "I won't pull away," she promised, her heart rate picking up with each passing second.

Seizing his opportunity, Haymitch leaned in again, and this time, as promised, she did not pull away. Their lips met, carefully, as though they were afraid the other would break if they applied too much pressure. Their hands remained linked between them. The kiss was innocent enough, but there was a passion behind it; years of longing and wondering and waiting. Their lips parted, but they remained close to one another.

"I might have tried that a lot sooner if I hadn't thought I'd ruin the gunk on your face," he said.

Effie laughed softly, her breath visible in the air between them. "Not much to ruin now," she said, reaching up with a gloved hand and using her thumb to wipe the smudge of her lipstick from his lips. "Pink is a good color for you," she joked.

"Better for you, though, I think," he said. They began to walk again; Haymitch wrapped an arm around her, and she did the same. "Are you too cold?"

"No, I'm all right," she assured him. "Are you?"

"I'm good," he told her. "Sober, too."

"How long will that last?"

"I don't know," he said honestly. "I don't drink quite as much as I used to, though. I'm working on it."

"Good."

"When are you going back? Day after tomorrow?"

"Yes, I'm afraid. The president's schedule isn't going to plan itself," she said with a sigh. She did enjoy her new job, but it could get awfully lonely sometimes. "Will you write to me?"

"I'll try," he acquiesced. "Can't promise I'll be any good at it."

"That's all right. I just—I miss you. All three of you."

"We miss you, too," he told her. "Peeta especially. He told me once that he wishes he had a mother like you instead of the one he got."

"He—he really said that?"

"He did."

"I never wanted children, you know, but those two—I feel like they're mine," she confessed.

"They love you," he said simply. "You're family to them."

"So are you," she reminded him. "And—and to me, as well."

"Effie—"

"I love you," she spat out. "I think I have for—a long time."

"Effie, I can't," he said. They both stopped in their tracks, and Effie backed away from him. "I care about you, I just—you still live and work in the Capitol, and I'm here, and on top of all that—there hasn't been a woman in my life for a quarter of a century. I don't know how to—"

"It's fine," she interrupted, tears stinging her eyes. She didn't want to hear any more. He didn't return her feelings; it was as simple as that. "We should head back," she suggested.

"Effie," he said, wishing he could kick himself for hurting her. It wasn't that he didn't have feelings for her, but after spending so many years stuck in his own ways, he knew he wouldn't just be able to flip a switch and suddenly be the perfect man for her, and she deserved that. After everything she'd suffered in the name of the rebellion, she deserved to have the carefree happiness she'd had before.

"Why did you—you made me feel like—I thought—" she stammered. "I thought there was a chance. You really shouldn't give people false hope," she chastised him.

"It's not false hope," he argued, "I want you—I _need_ you in my life. I know that."

"But not in a romantic sense," she said flatly.

"That's not—damn it, woman, can't you see that I'm trying?" he asked in frustration – not with her, but with himself. "I sobered up, I spent all day working on your Christmas present—I wanted to do something nice, for _you_. Doesn't that tell you anything?"

"Why can't you say the words?"

"Because the last time I said those words to someone, she was taken away from me," he snapped. "They killed her for that stunt I pulled when I won my Games."

"Haymitch, I—"

"I know it's irrational, I know it won't happen again, and the Games are over, but for me—they're _never_ over for me, Effie. I see that arena almost every night. It doesn't just stop because we won the rebellion. It's been over 25 years, and I still feel like I'm there."

"I know, I—"

"No, you can't know. Katniss, Peeta, _they_ know, but you can never know—"

"Haymitch Abernathy, you are being rude!" she snapped at him. "I know that I don't _know_, and I haven't been through what you have, but I understand more than you think I do! I'm not just some stupid, ignorant—"

Before she could continue her rant, he cut her off with another kiss. This one was nowhere near as tentative and gentle as the first. He captured her lips roughly with his own, and held her by the sides of her face. Seemingly forgetting her anger, Effie melted into him, and clung to the lapels of his jacket. This time, when they parted, she was at a complete loss for words.

"If you would have let me finish, I would have said that I'm _glad_ you'll never know what it feels like," he told her. "For one, because I wouldn't wish that kind of pain on my worst enemy, and for another, because—you're the one that keeps me grounded. I don't need someone else who's as damaged as I am, I need—well, _you_. I need your schedules, and your nagging, and your annoying preoccupation with tidiness and orderliness and punctuality, because you keep me from completely falling to pieces. The only times in the past 25 years that I've felt anything even remotely _resembling_ happiness have all had one thing in common. _You_."

A few tears managed to slip from her eyes, and she smiled. "I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me," she told him.

"Well, it's the truth. You're the only thing I know I can count on. I just—I want you to be able to say the same about me, but I'm not that man. I'm sloppy, I drink too much, and I don't know the first thing about romance, or—manners," he said, shaking his head, "You're good for me, but I'm no good for you. That's not fair."

"Fair? Nothing ever is. It's not about being fair, Haymitch. Do you really think that I want someone exactly like me? If I did, I certainly wouldn't be here, telling you that I love you. Like you said, I've changed. I was never under the assumption that this would be easy, but—I need you in my life, too. And as for counting on you, I wouldn't even be alive right now if it weren't for you. That's good enough for me."

He looked at her in wonder, as though he was seeing her through new eyes. No longer did a privileged, clueless Capitol woman stand before him; she was smart, and so much stronger than he'd ever given her credit for. "I—I'm never going to be perfect."

"Neither will I," she told him.

"I'll frustrate the hell out of you."

"You already do," she said with a smile.

"I won't go to the Capitol."

"Then I'll just have to come here more often," she consented.

"My letters will be crap."

"I'll enjoy them, anyway."

"Okay, then," he said, brushing her hair behind her ear.

"Okay what?"

"We can—we can try to make this work."

"This?"

"Us," he said, "That is, if you're willing to promise you won't go around kissing anyone else."

She chuckled softly. "I will if you will."

"All right, then."

They sealed the agreement with a kiss.


End file.
